


keep your eyes bright

by boxesofflowers, Eeyoreneedsahug



Series: over the atlantic [1]
Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Arguments, Caring Even Bech Næsheim, Fever, Hurt/Comfort, Isak is stubborn, Isak’s weak immune system, M/M, Medical Student Isak, Pneumonia, Sick Isak Valtersen, Sickfic, Worried Even Bech Næsheim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23207839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boxesofflowers/pseuds/boxesofflowers, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eeyoreneedsahug/pseuds/Eeyoreneedsahug
Summary: Even doesn’t get to make the flight to visit Isak in New York that often. So when Even has a break in his shooting schedule to visit, Isak is desperate to make the most of their time. But Even’s arriving right before Isak’s final exams and on top of that, he’s been fighting off a cold for a few weeks already.
Relationships: Even Bech Næsheim/Isak Valtersen
Series: over the atlantic [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1668556
Comments: 14
Kudos: 149





	keep your eyes bright

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyyyy! Long time no see! We are, as one might say, back on our bullshit. Poe wrote this and I edited/contributed to making her end it lol. This is the product of 6 days of self isolation for Poe. Day 1 of self isolation for me (for being evacuated from the UK by my uni reasons).

Isak’s hands shake as he checks his phone for what feels like the thousandth time. Flight 7264 has arrived. But it’s said that for the past ten minutes, and Even is still nowhere to be seen. Maybe he’s at the wrong terminal? Maybe Even missed his flight? Maybe he just decided he didn’t want to come? His thoughts are spiraling out of control and he tries to steady them before it gets any worse. 

When he looks up from his phone, his heart jumps in his chest. In the crowd of people walking toward the terminal, he spots someone blonde and tall and even though he can’t make out their face, he knows it has to be Even.

Isak’s phone starts to vibrate from his pocket, and he fumbles to answer. “Even” 

He smiles down at the screen before lifting the phone to his ear. 

“Halla,” he says, and he can hear Even’s smile on the other end, as crazy as that sounds.

“Hei. I just landed, I’m trying to get to the taxis, I should be there in about a half-hour. To your place, I mean. I know you said I could take the subway, but I’m clueless enough as is–”

Isak can see Even in the crowd, talking on his phone, strolling casually, eyes wandering. If he wants the taxis he’s definitely heading in the wrong direction. Isak smiles. 

“I’ll help you. It’s not so hard,” Isak says, still watching Even in the crowd, who tilts his head to the ceiling in frustration.

“That’s really not–” He cuts himself off when his eyes finally land on Isak, who waves. Immediately, Even starts to half-run half-jog, unbalanced by his duffel bag, before dropping it by Isak’s feet and wrapping him in his arms. Isak’s laughing but after a moment he feels himself start to cry. It’s been so long since he felt like he belonged anywhere, or he was loved. He didn’t realize how much he missed it. He tries to press himself closer, hold him tighter, take in everything he hasn’t had. It’s one of those movie moments and he wishes Even could get it on camera. It would be as beautiful as it feels. Even smells good. He’s not sure like what, but he can’t get enough of it. 

They stand there for a long time, just holding each other, before Even pulls away, grinning.

“Did you miss me?” he asks, and Isak can only respond with a choked little laugh. Even wipes the tears from the younger boy’s cheek with his thumb. 

“You’re so stupid,” Isak finally manages, his voice still watery. Even laughs, and that almost sends Isak back into tears.

“That’s the first thing you say to me? Really?” He teases, taking mock offense, and Isak rolls his eyes.

“I thought I did but now you’re acting like an idiot,” he teases back, and Even finally kisses him. 

“So should I just get back on the plane then?” he asks, and Isak tucks his head into the crook of his neck, his arms still wrapped loosely around Even’s ribs.

“No, I think you can stay,” he says, so soft he thinks maybe Even doesn’t hear, but he places another kiss on Isak’s forehead and smiles.

“Lucky me.”

They end up taking a cab back to Isak’s apartment, which is a very small studio in a building owned by NYU, because despite Isak’s insistence that it wasn’t so cold out, Even was convinced the younger boy’s thin sweater wasn’t enough for a subway trek and a 20-minute walk in this weather.

In the backseat of the taxi, Isak’s eyelids are fluttering, his head bobbing every so often with exhaustion. It’s 1 AM, granted, and although Even was so happy to see him at the airport, part of him wishes Isak was getting some sleep. 

“It’s ok if you wanna take a nap,” he says, and Isak shakes his head.

“Nope, I’m good. All good here.” He gives the older boy a tired little smile and even though it’s an obvious lie, Even doesn’t push him on it. 

Despite his protest, they spend the cab ride in near silence, Isak drifting between sleep and wakefulness, his head on Even’s shoulder. He’d almost forgotten how he can only seem to get warm when Even is next to him. 

When they get to the apartment, he finally seems to get back to normal, awake enough to lead him to the door. When they go inside, Even’s surprised by the mess. Usually, Isak likes things a bit tidier, but the small room looks like a tornado’s blown through. 

Isak flips on the lights, not wasting any time before turning on the coffee maker. He fumbles around in the kitchen while Even sets his bag on the bed. It smells like Isak, it makes him smile. He’s startled when Isak clears his throat.

“You can go to bed if you want, I’m staying up for a little while,” he says, rubbing his eyes. He must see the concern written on Even’s face because he starts to justify himself. “Not for too long or anything, I just have my exam for anatomy tomorrow morning, and I just want to go over everything quick. Not a big deal.” He sniffles, rubbing at his eyes again, and that doesn’t make Even feel any better.

“Well,” he says, careful, “I could help you study if you want?” Isak looks skeptical.

“Uh, I guess so. If you really want to, you don’t–” Even cuts him off.

“It’s fine. I’m happy to. Why don’t you, uh, get changed, I’ll fix your coffee and we can start?” He tests and Isak nods, giving him a relieved little smile. 

By the time they’re sat at the tiny table, Isak looks ready to drop but Even knows better than to force Isak to do anything he doesn’t want to do. The younger boy clutches his mug, taking careful sips, while Even skims the page of notes Isak’s written.

“You’re gonna quiz me?” he asks, and Even nods. “Cool. Uh, make sure you go over functions. Like, what it does. The muscle or nerve or whatever.”

“Ok, no problem. First question, where is the...fuck, uh...the xiphoid process?” Even asks, stumbling over the pronunciation. It takes Isak a second with how Even had said it but it could really only be–

“The abdomen. Uh, that’s too easy. Ask about embryology,” he says, taking another sip of coffee. Even flips a few pages.

“Capacitation. What is that?” There’s a very long pause before Isak speaks.

“I’m being a shitty boyfriend.”

“No! No, you’re not. At all,” Even protests. Isak looks down at his cup. He swallows. Even knows that when Isak gets like this is just one internal battle after another. He just wishes Isak would sometimes say the things he thinks during these internal arguments. 

“Just go to sleep, Even, ok?” Isak says softly. Again, Even is torn. His protective instincts are screaming at him to argue, but he knows to argue will only make things worse. He takes a deep breath.

“Promise me you’ll come to bed by 2:30,” he finally says, and Isak frowns.

“Ev–”

“Promise me,” he interrupts, and when Isak seems to realize Even’s not budging, he sighs.

“Fine. Promise.” 

“Pinky?” Even asks and Isak finally smiles slightly, rolling his eyes.

“Fine. Yes. Pinky,” he agrees and links their fingers. 

Even smiles, pressing a little kiss to their hands and then between his eyes. He heads off to sleep, hoping Isak will have the common sense to keep his promise.

The next morning, Isak’s out the door by 7:45, looking decidedly exhausted yet still confident. He tells Even he’ll be back by noon, then they’ll go for lunch and do some “tourist stuff” that is still a mystery.

Even spends the morning cleaning the apartment. Isak suggested he go to the diner down the block, but to be honest, although he hates cleaning, he’d much rather tidy up the tiny space. It doesn’t look too different from their first apartment in Oslo – the mattress on the floor, a wall covered in papers and photos, a table piled high with textbooks and clothes. Since then they’ve both gotten so much cleaner – not clean, but at least cleaner – but it almost seems like Isak is back in his old mindset.

Isak’s back at 12:45, out of breath and apologetic, face flushed from the cold. 

“Sorry, sorry, there was something with the train and th–” He cuts himself off when he finally takes a look around the room. “Did you clean?” 

“Yeah.,” he says with a smile, and Isak raises his eyebrows.

“That was really sweet. I’ve just been so busy, and with exams and studying and class and all that it’s just been...a lot to handle.” By now, Even’s wrapped him in a hug, running one hand up and down his back, and he feels the younger boy’s breathing start to slow.

“You’re shivering,” he murmurs, and Isak pulls away slightly.

“It’s cold out,” he mumbles back and Even nods. “Anyway, if you get your coat on we can go have lunch,” he says and rubs his nose with his wrist. He gives a soft sniffle and starts to wrap his scarf back up.

“We don’t have to go anywhere, I’m fine staying here. Really,” he says. He just wants to be near Isak, even if that means napping curled up together or watching documentaries or–

“Even. I’m fine, ok? Promise.” Isak’s seen right through him. He always does. Even is a worrier. And maybe he has cause to worry. Isak’s reassuring words don’t exactly match up with what Even’s seeing: an exhausted, cold, and anxiety-ridden 21-year-old who looks like he could shatter if Even touches him the wrong way. Even sighs.

“Ok, yeah. I’ll stop it,” he says, and Isak smiles. Even smiles back.

“Awesome. Let’s have a fun day.”

And they do, for the most part, but despite everything Even can’t seem to let go of his nagging worry. Isak only picks at his lunch, he’s in a daze half the time, and his hands tremble. Sometime during the afternoon, he starts clearing his throat much more often, and the little crease that forms between his eyebrows lets Even know he has a headache. 

They get back to the apartment around 9, and Isak immediately pulls out his textbook. He drinks the tea Even makes him but refuses the ibuprofen, and Even is thankful he manages to convince him to take a break for some food. Every few minutes he’ll apologize for “being boring” and Even has to reassure him it’s alright, that everything’s fine. 

As the hours grow later and later, Even gets less subtle about his suggestions that Isak goes to sleep.

“You really think this is going to help? Making yourself too tired to think straight?”

“It doesn’t matter! I’m not asking for your opinion!” Isak snaps. “I’m not a kid, I can handle it.”

“You’re sincerely telling me you don’t feel like shit?” He snaps back, and Isak frowns.

“It doesn’t matter!”

“Of course it matters. What’s more important, an exam, or your basic needs?”

“This exam!” Isak chokes out. “Once it’s over, everything will be fine but I have two more exams so until then I have to keep it together, ok? I’m sorry!”

“Don’t apologize to me, I’m just looking out for you.”

“I didn’t ask you to look out for me, Even.”

He has two options, and neither is too appealing, but he knows he needs to let this go or he’s risking making Isak more upset than is even necessary. 

“I’m going to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow, ok?”

“Yeah, ok.”

“I love you,” he says, voice quiet, and Isak swallows hard.

“I love you too.”

Isak doesn’t wake him up when he leaves that morning, so by the time Even’s out of bed it’s almost ten. Why does he have to be so protective? Isak’s right, he’s not a kid, he can take care of himself, but even so, Even can’t stop worrying. It’s frustrating.

When Isak gets back from his exam, he looks terrible. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes glassy, and every so often he breaks out in a fit of painful sounding coughs. He can’t stop shivering, and when Even gives him a kiss his lips are chapped. They don’t discuss what happened the night before, but they both know what the other is thinking. 

They spend the day at a museum, walking slow, holding hands, Isak wearing Even’s extra sweater. They have fun, despite everything, and Even can almost forget the gnawing worry. But then Isak will break out in a fit of coughs and it’ll come rushing back.

After dinner - which Isak barely touches – they head back to the apartment, and Isak sets himself back into his usual spot. He’s so defensive he won’t even accept the tea Even makes him, and Even tries to walk the thin line of caretaking and not seeming like he’s caretaking. The most he can get away with is to lend him an extra blanket.

He’s sitting on the bed, typing on his laptop, headphones in, every so often sneaking a glance over at the younger boy to make sure he’s alright. He’s timing himself. Once every five minutes. Not overly protective, but just enough. When the little clock on his computer hits 9:45, Even allows himself to glance up only to find Isak’s chair is empty. He slips off his headphones.

“Isak?” He calls, but there’s no response. He swings his legs over the side of the bed. “Isak?” He hears a muffled sound from the hallway.

Even tries not to panic as he rounds the corner to the bathroom. The door is open, and Isak is kneeling in front of the toilet, forehead resting on the rim. His cheeks are damp, his fingers shaking.

“Isak?” Even asks quietly, and the younger boy lets out something resembling a whimper. Carefully, he steps into the small space and kneels next to him, resting a hand between his shoulder blades. The heat rolling off him is startling, and it kicks Even’s anxiety into a new gear.

“I know, I’m really stupid,” he mumbles, and Even moves closer, pulling Isak close to his chest. The skin on skin contact only emphasizes Isak’s fever, and his thin frame only makes the shivering worse. 

“You’re not stupid,” Even says gently, and Isak sighs. “Just stubborn.”

“I’m so fucked,” he mumbles and Even shakes his head.

“Everything’s gonna be fine.”

“I’m gonna fail my exam.”

Even wants to just come out and say Isak’s not taking his exam tomorrow, but he’s upset enough as it is.

“Everything’s alright, Iss.”

“I’m so sorry I’m ruining your vacation.”

“Shh. Stop.” He knows just saying that won’t do much good when Isak is already like this so he just holds him close. They sit on the floor for a while longer, Isak taking shaky breaths, Even carefully stroking his back. Even finally pulls away, resting his palm against the younger boy’s forehead before brushing his damp curls off his face. He’s very warm, but nothing Even hasn’t dealt with before. He places a tender, barely-there kiss between his eyes before standing up to rifle through the medicine cabinet. For a medical student, Isak doesn’t have too many medical supplies. There’s an old mercury thermometer, an almost-empty bottle of ibuprofen, and maybe a tablespoon of red cough syrup that looks likely expired.

He kneels back down, shaking the thermometer before placing it under Isak’s tongue. The younger boy opens his mouth to speak but quickly realizes the thermometer is going to fall. He moves his mouth experimentally before starting to talk around the thin glass tube.

“Fevers aren’t really that bi-” He’s cut off when Even places his fingers under Isak’s chin, guiding his mouth closed.

“That big of a deal?” He finishes, and Isak nods. “Maybe not, but you’re miserable.” Even knows that the flu usually comes on fast, but this seems quick even for that. He didn’t have a fever earlier - at least Even didn’t think he did. It was always hard for him to tell. Except at times like this, where it’s blatantly obvious.

Isak leans back against the wall, closing his eyes. It’s clear he has a thousand things he wants to say, but there are at least two minutes left for the thermometer to do its job. It feels like a long time passes before Even decides to speak.

“I hope this doesn’t happen when I’m not here,” he says quietly, and Isak opens his eyes. His face is carefully blank. Even takes a deep breath. Of course, it does. Isak shakes his head. Of course, he does. “I wish I could be here with you all the time,” Even says and Isak nods.

Even takes a look at the time. Another minute left before he can take out this stupid, antique piece of crap. He stands up, grabbing the washcloth resting on the side of the sink. He can feel Isak’s eyes on him. He runs the cloth under the cold tap, wringing it out before sitting back down on the floor. Isak always liked something cold on his skin when he had a fever, he usually got sick a few times each winter, so Even is pretty accustomed to it by now. 

The first time Isak ever spiked a fever while they were together was only a few months after they started dating. He was still living with Eskild, he caught the flu or whatever was going around at the time, and Even had been worried out of his mind. He hadn’t had much experience with any of it before – Even rarely got sick, and even if he did he’s never run a fever – so it worried him half to death. After a few more colds and bugs came and went though, he started to become accustomed to the way Isak’s body tended to handle sickness.

He lays the cloth on the nape of his neck and lets his hand linger in Isak’s hair. He’s still stiff like he wants to resist, but they both know it’s too late for that.

Even takes out the thermometer, squinting to see the numbers. It’s at least 39 degrees, which, if Even remembers right, is the benchmark between mild and high. It’s generally around where Isak normally runs when he’s ill, so Even breathes a small sigh of relief.

Isak stretches his jaw.

“Temperature is really useless,” he says, his voice sounding wobbly. Despite everything, it brings a small smile to Even’s face.

“So you like to remind me.”

“Let me see,” he says, and Even hands it over to him. He squints at it for a long time before letting out a small huff.

“What?” Even asks. Isak looks up.

“Nothing. It’s fine.” He hands the thermometer back to him and starts to struggle to his feet.

“Whoa! Hey, hey.” Even shoots up, managing to steady him before he loses balance on his shaky legs. He looks dazed and Even holds his face gently between his palms. “Slow down, you’re gonna fall and break your neck.” Isak rolls his eyes, but seems too focused on trying to regain his composure to say anything. “Damn, this really hit you, huh?” Isak gives a little nod. “Do you want me to carry you?” He asks. Isak shakes his head. “Ok, go lay down and I’ll be right there.”

He busies himself trying to gather what few supplies Isak actually has, and when he finally has all he’s going to get, he heads back into the main room. It takes all his self-control not to blow up when he sees Isak back at the table, flipping textbook pages.

“Isak.” He’s not even surprised at this point but he can still feel the hot frustration pouring into the edges of his voice. The younger boy looks up and gives a heavy sigh, resting his head in his hands. Even sets down his small collection on the bed and moves to the table. He stands in silence for a while before he speaks again. “I know yo-”

“Even, please, I just need to finish this.” 

He sighs.

“Fuck, Isak. This is...this is insane. Seriously. I’ve been trying not to be an asshole about this but–”

“Please just stop.”

“No.”

“It’s the last exam! This is-it’s so important, you don’t understand.” His voice is trembling with tears, and Even can almost feel something being torn apart in his chest. 

“There’s no way you’re going anywhere tomorrow,” Even states. It’s just a fact. Isak has a fever and is throwing up. A medical student should be able to figure it out. At that, Isak fully breaks down into sobs, and Even can’t keep himself from comforting him any longer. He pulls him close to his chest, hating the way his breath jumps in and out. “Everything’s gonna be fine, Is.”

Clearly, the mixture of exhaustion, fever, and his ever-present anxiety has created a tidal wave of panic. There’s not much Even can do other than hold him and remind him to breathe while he calms down.

When his breath finally seems to be more even, Even manages to peel them apart enough so he can look in Isak’s eyes.

“Everything’s alright. All that’s important right now is you feeling better, ok? That’s it. Everything else can wait.”

Somehow, he manages to get Isak into bed and out of his sweat-damp clothes. The moment he lies down, his eyes are closed and, for the first time in hours, Even feels almost at ease. He’ll have to find Isak’s professor’s email – there’s no way he’ll be able to take an exam tomorrow. He’s barely slept for almost three days, that’s not even to mention how ill he seems. 

After about ten minutes of searching and piecing together bits of information, he’s able to find an email. He writes something about there being an emergency and hopes that sending it at 1 AM will grant it a little more legitimacy. 

He gets Isak into a half-awake daze to take some ibuprofen before letting him fall back asleep. He hopes it’ll do something at least, even though the bottle said it was expired. When he’s done all he can really do, he lays down next to him, trying his best not to disturb the sleep Even knows is fragile. He lies there watching his boyfriend’s breath move in and out before he falls asleep himself.

Isak wakes up only a few hours later in a haze, and he must have chills because he wraps himself around Even like there’s nothing else on earth that could warm him up. Even takes the opportunity to slip him a few ibuprofen and take his temperature, which has risen about half a degree despite the fever reducers he took earlier. There’ve only been a few times in the five years they’ve known each other that Isak’s been this ill. Once, in third year when his appendix burst, and a few times when he was an undergrad at UiO. All of those times felt so different than this though. It’d never been so bad so fast. He’d never been so upset and stubborn and anxious.

He’s awake again a little while after that and Even has to stop him from trying to climb over him and out of bed.

“Is, what are you doing?” he mumbles, only half awake himself, and Isak flops back down on the mattress.

“I’m thirsty,” he says, and Even mentally chides himself for completely forgetting to make his boyfriend drink any water before they fell asleep.

“Ok, no problem, just stay here,” he says and makes the short walk to the fridge. 

“S’ok I can get it,” Isak mumbles, but doesn’t move. It’s only a few moments before Even’s back with a water bottle. “Thanks,” he mumbles, and Even strokes his hair.

“Sit up.”

Isak does, shakily, and gulps down almost the whole bottle before letting out a heavy sigh and promptly curling back up against the older boy.

He’s so out of it the next morning he seems to have forgotten he was supposed to take an exam, but Even’s almost glad. He doesn’t want to put any more stress on him than there already is. 

He takes his temp again in the morning, but it hasn’t changed. Once he’s eaten he’s a little more lucid, but nothing’s putting a dent in how miserable he seems to be. He won’t stop shivering, and while his cough has let up, Even can tell it hurts him to speak. He keeps apologizing and Even has to keep reminding him its not his fault. At least not completely.

“I just have the worst luck. Like, I’ve been sick for a month and only now does it decide to get worse.”

“A month?”

“Ah, uh, no. Not a month. Not sick-sick,” he quickly tries to backpedal, but Even knows what he meant. He’s been his stubborn self fighting a head cold for a month and he’s finally lost. If Even had been here, it wouldn’t have happened. No way.

“Well, that explains it, at least.”

“Explains what?”

“I thought you had the plague or something. One minute you seemed fine the next you were too sick to stand straight.’

“That’s an exaggeration,” he says, though he doesn’t make a move to prove otherwise. Even has him propped up against the wall wearing one of his hoodies, the comforter wrapped around his shoulders. 

“Well, all I can say is I’m glad I was here,” Even says gently, and Isak sighs. Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, his expression tightens.

“Shit. Fuck! What time is it?” He shrugs off the blanket, patting around on the bed for his phone.

“It’s 10,” he says carefully, and Isak stops, frowning, before looking out the window and back to Even.

“At night?” he asks confused and Even has to hold back a laugh. 

“No, babe. 10 in the morning.” The realization starts to creep onto Isak’s face and Even rests his hand on the side of his neck. He definitely feels a bit cooler. “Do you remember what happened last night?”

“No,” he finally breathes out, clearly confused, and Even tucks a bit of his hair behind his ear.

“Well you started running a fever and we decided it’d be better if you just got some rest.” Isak’s expression doesn’t change. “You really don’t remember?” He shakes his head.

“I...I have an exam, s’my last exam, why…” He trails off, before looking Even in the eye. “I had stuff planned for us to do.”

“I don’t care about any of that, I can see central park some other time. You’re really ill. Don’t you feel awful? Wouldn’t you rather just stay in and watch a movie or something?” Isak just closes his eyes, letting his forehead rest on Even’s shoulder, and Even sighs, running one hand gently through his damp curls. “What’s going on in your head, hm?”

“I jus don’wanna admit you’re right,” he mumbles, and that manages to draw a laugh out of the older boy. 

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” Isak hums in response and Even hesitates before carefully untangling himself from Isak’s grasp. 

“I’m gonna grab the thermometer, ok?”

“Even, it’s -”

“I already know what you’re about to say, and you already know I’m going to say that I don’t care.” Isak huffs a sigh but doesn’t protest. 

He shivers when Even slips the cool glass under his tongue, and the older boy carefully wraps the comforter back around his shoulders. He looks so small, his thin frame practically swimming in Even’s already oversized sweatshirt.

It’s then Even realizes he needs to go to the pharmacy sooner rather than later. They’ve run out of ibuprofen, and Isak’s fridge is empty except for some slightly moldy cheese and some condiments. It’d also be helpful to have a thermometer that didn’t take an age to work.

“I'm gonna go out for a little bit, just to grab some stuff.” He checks his phone. The thermometer should be done by now. Or just about. He takes it and squints. 38. Not bad at all. Maybe even 37.8 or so. A little bit of tension releases from Even’s shoulders. 

“You’re coming back?” Isak asks and Even is almost about to laugh before he realizes the question is in earnest. He kisses his boyfriend’s cheek – giving an inward sigh at the cooler feeling of his skin.

“Of course. 30 minutes, tops. I promise.”

He fusses over Isak a few moments more before grabbing his wallet and Isak’s keys from the table. He stops as he’s about to shut the door.

“Call me if anything happens, ok?” Isak laughs weakly.

“What could possibly happen in 30 minutes?”

\---

Even is jogging on the sidewalk, though he probably shouldn’t be. The concrete is covered in half-melted ice and snow, and he’s come close to falling on his ass a few too many times. But he’s already been gone for...he checks his phone. 43 minutes. Isak hasn’t called, which is a good sign, but he’s still kicking himself for getting lost. The streets are numbered, dammit. 

When he finally did make it to the pharmacy, he grabbed just about everything he could think of. A few cans of soup, some bright blue sports drink that claimed to have electrolytes, a digital thermometer, some extra-strength Tylenol, and a too-big bottle of Pepto Bismol among other items. 

He’s beyond relieved when he recognizes the outside of Isak’s building, and more than happy to get inside and out of the cold. When he finally gets to Isak’s door, he’s somewhat out of breath - mostly because he half-ran up the stairs, but also because there were five flights. It was rare to find an apartment here that wasn’t a walk-up. 

With a sigh, he opens the door and sets the bag down on the small table. 

“Sorry I’m late I -” He cuts himself off. Isak isn’t in bed. Or anywhere to be found for that matter. “Isak?” He calls, but there’s no response. Likely he’s just asleep on the bathroom floor, which while shitty, isn’t too bad of a scenario. 

He pushes open the door to the bathroom, but it’s empty. Even feels his heart start to creep up into his throat. He pulls out his phone with shaking fingers. One missed call. Isak. How could he have missed it? He taps Isak’s name. He holds the phone up to his ear, and when he hears Isak’s ringtone coming from the other room, he feels like all the wind’s been knocked out of him.

Isak is out, somewhere, without his phone, in the cold, and it’s Even’s fault. He curses under his breath, but wraps his scarf back around his neck, rushing back down the stairs and out the front door. It’s started to snow - softly, but still. The wind has picked up a little as well and Even tugs the scarf a bit tighter. 

He has no idea where to begin.

“Isak!” He calls out, but there’s no response. What was he expecting?

Where would Isak even go? His class came and went, and there really wouldn’t be another motivator - then it hits - he’s looking for Even. Quickly, Even starts to retrace his steps back to the pharmacy, but it’s getting harder to see as the snowfall worsens. God, what an absolutely fucked situation. 

He’s walking for what seems like an age before he sees a bright maroon scarf through the haze. He jogs to catch up with the figure, something in his gut says it’s Isak. 

“Is!” He calls, and the figure turns. He’s about as pale as the snow, but it’s Isak. Unfocused blue eyes peek out over the thick scarf, and they don’t seem to spark with recognition until Even’s hands are on his shoulders. “Babe, what were you thinking?!”

Isak blinks lamely, looking lost. After a long pause, he finally speaks.

“Even?” His voice is thick with the kind of confusion Even knows comes with a fever, but that doesn’t make sense. He was barely 38 only an hour ago. Experimentally, Even rests his palm on his forehead, and immediately his panic returns. Worse. Much worse than even last night. He tries his cheek and Isak lets out a soft whine at the touch. Even snaps out of his shock. He wraps an arm around his boyfriend’s waist, trying to guide him back toward the apartment. Isak’s movements are slow and uncoordinated, and Even doesn’t want to push him, but they need to get out of this snowstorm as soon as humanly possible.

It takes far too long, but they finally arrive back at the building. Even fumbles with the key before pulling Isak inside the small lobby. He tries to brush off some of the snow, but most of it’s already melted, leaving the younger boy soaked. Without any warning, Isak’s knees start to give, and Even catches him, holding him to his chest until he’s more steady. He hates that he can feel the heat through his clothes.

Fuck. There is no way in hell Isak is making it up the stairs. Without giving it too much thought, Even lifts him up into his arms, and starts up the five flights. Again, he’s shocked at just how hot Isak feels. Surprisingly, it’s not incredibly difficult. Probably because Even’s running on adrenaline, but he knows it also has to do with the fact Isak’s definitely lost weight over the course of the semester.

Finally, when they get up to the tiny studio apartment, Even breathes his first sigh of relief. This is ok. This will be ok. 

He sets his boyfriend down in one of the chairs by the small table and kneels to meet his eye line. The younger boy’s eyes are glassy, eyelids struggling to stay open. Even presses a kiss to his forehead, and it sends another spike of panic through his chest. Every touch makes it worse - reminds him how bad it really is.

Hurriedly, he starts to peel off his boyfriend’s wet clothes until he’s down to his underwear, the only thing still remotely dry. How long must he have been out in the snow to have gotten that drenched? It’s then Even realizes that although his coat might be damp from the snowfall, Isak’s clothes are plastered to him with sweat. 

Now that there’s no fabric between Isak’s skin and Even’s, he can feel the fever that much more clearly. Maybe he’s imagining it, but he can almost feel it radiating off him. Still, Isak is shivering, jaw clenched. He pulls his feet up onto the chair, hugging his knees to his chest, arms trembling with the effort. Even cups his cheek, looking into his bleary eyes. There’s some semblance of recognition there and Even whispers carefully.

“Hey, baby. Can you hear me?” His voice is shaking. It takes a moment, but Isak nods and Even lets himself breathe. “Ok, that’s awesome. I’m gonna get you feeling better, ok?” Isak hums in response.

First thing’s first, get an actual read on his temp. He tears the new thermometer out of its packaging, fumbling with the buttons for a moment before holding it to Isak’s lips. He seems to know what to do, opening his mouth so Even can slide the device under his tongue. While he’s waiting for the reading, he looks around haphazardly for something - anything - to cool Isak down. Finally, he grabs the washcloth he’d used the night before, running it under some lukewarm water, and places it around the base of his neck. His shivering picks up, and he lets out a small sound of discontent. 

“I know, love.” The thermometer beeps. 105.4. He’s confused before he realizes that of course, an American thermometer is going to read Fahrenheit. He presses a button and the number disappears. Christ. He presses another button, the small F becomes a C. He coaxes it back under Isak’s tongue, and strokes some of his damp hair off his forehead. “It’s ok. Everything’s ok,” he murmurs, more to himself than anyone else.

The thermometer beeps. 40.8. Even tries to swallow the new wave of panic. Panic doesn’t help anybody. Isak gives a weak cough, which quickly turns into a fit. They sound harsh and like they come from deep in his chest. Much worse than before.

Even grabs the new bottle of Tylenol, struggling with the cap for a moment before finally shaking two pills into his palm. He turns his attention back to Isak, trying not to let the anxiety leak into his voice.

“Can you take some meds for me?” Isak shakes his head. “Why not?”

“m’stomach,” Isak mumbles, and Even strokes his hair in what he hopes is a comforting way.

“You’ll feel better, I promise.” He places the tablets into Isak’s open palm, and he reluctantly puts them in his mouth, taking a small swig from the water bottle Even handed him. Though the Tylenol is a good first step, there’s no way this fever is coming down with that alone. He gives Isak a minute to catch his breath before he says anything. “Can I get you into the bathroom?” 

Isak nods, still shaking like a leaf, and Even half-drags half-carries his boyfriend so he’s sitting on the edge of the bathtub. Even thanks their luck that Isak happens to even have one. Apartments as small as his usually don’t. 

He turns on the tap so the water is about room temperature, though he knows it’ll feel like ice to Isak. As he waits for the tub to fill, he rubs Isak’s back through another fit of coughs, trying to ignore the way his skin burns against Even’s palm.

There are so many things he wants to say, but he knows nothing is getting through to Isak’s fever-addled brain.

When the bath is full, he’s able to get Isak halfway in before he tries to fight back. Luckily for Even, he doesn’t have very much strength, and he’s able to get Isak in so the water lies at the base of his throat. His shivering has reached a peak, it’s almost more like shaking. 

“Ev...m’cold,” he mumbles, trying to curl his knees closer to his chest.

“I know, love. It’s alright. Just breathe.” His breaths are coming broken and fast, and Even places a hand on his shoulder. “You’re ok, just breathe.” Mercifully, Even can already feel the change in Isak’s temperature. 

They sit there for what feels like an hour, Isak’s body slowly adjusting to the shock, Even watching, wishing he could do something.

By the time Isak’s stopped shivering, he seems a tad more lucid, and he’s definitely cooled down some, though Even isn’t sure how much. Or if it’s enough.

He helps him up, draining the bath and doing his best to dry him off with one of the threadbare towels. 

He ends up carrying him to bed, and Isak wastes no time wrapping himself up in the comforter. He’s still shivering, but not nearly as bad as before. Even manages to get the thermometer back under his tongue, despite the fact he’s all but asleep. The beep seems to startle him, and the minute the device leaves his mouth he breaks into a coughing fit. 

39.5. God, he never thought he’d be relieved to see Isak running a temp like this. Still, Even finally feels a little bit of relief sink in. If the meds do their job, he should be hovering around 39, which would be, though still much higher than Even would prefer, a big improvement.

Isak’s eyelids flutter.

“Ev?” He mumbles.

“Mm?” Even runs his hand through his damp, tangled curls.

“Hol’me?”

He doesn’t need to be asked twice. Though the twin bed isn’t made for two people - not to mention two people each over six feet - he manages to get into a comfortable position with Isak’s head under his chin. Isak falls asleep almost instantly and Even is close behind.

\---

He wakes up only an hour later to Isak mumbling in his sleep, eyebrows furrowed. Gingerly, Even tests his forehead. He doesn’t need the thermometer to know that his temp’s climbed back up. Shit.

Carefully, he shakes Isak’s shoulder, and the younger boy startles awake, panting, then coughing. Even sits him up, his boyfriend still trembling with chills. He’s not due for another dose yet - there’s still an hour or so left - but clearly, the effect has worn off. Leave it to Isak to have a fever as stubborn as he is.

Even hands his boyfriend two more pills, which he downs with a swig of water. Even wants to insist he drink more, but the last thing Isak needs right now is for his stomach to rebel. Ideally, he’d get him into another bath, but he’s not sure Isak can handle it. His body expended so much energy last time, another hour of shivering might only make things worse.

He settles for laying the washcloth on his forehead, re-dampening it whenever it warms up, which is far too often. Slowly, Even thinks his fever is coming down, though he doesn’t want to wake his boyfriend to make sure. When he’s somewhat satisfied with Isak’s condition, he lays back down beside him, the younger boy immediately clinging to him like a lifeline.

\---

The next morning, Even wakes to Isak still pressed against him. The raging heat from the night before is gone. Carefully, he extracts himself from the sheets, tucking them back around his boyfriend’s frame. He makes a small sound but doesn’t wake.

Even checks the time. 7 AM. He tries to think back on yesterday’s timeline. He’d gone out around 12 and found Isak around 1:30. After that, it all becomes a mess in his mind. Regardless, he decides to make some coffee. 

Just as it finishes percolating, Even hears Isak stir. 

“Hey babe,” he mumbles, pushing himself up on his elbows. “Makin’ coffee?” He’s pale, and the bags under his eyes look almost like bruises, but overall he seems much better.

“Yes I am, sleeping beauty,” he says, and Isak lets out a small sound that triggers a fit of coughs. When he’s done, he winces, his eyebrows pulling together.

“I feel like shit,” he says matter-of-factly, and it makes Even laugh. “What?”

“No, I know you feel like shit, babe.” He pours two cups of coffee, bringing one to Isak, and sitting down in one of the small kitchen chairs he’s pulled up by the side of the bed. Isak’s about to take a sip when Even grabs his wrist. “Wait, I wanna take your temperature first.” Isak rolls his eyes but doesn’t protest when Even slips the device under his tongue. Even strokes his hair, and Isak smirks. The thermometer beeps, and he pulls it out of his own mouth.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Even takes the device. 37.8.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m...I don’t know like I’m back from the dead or something.” He grabs his coffee, taking a sip. “Mm.”

“You might as well be, after yesterday. You scared me out of my mind.” Isak frowns.

“What are you talking about?”

“You don’t remember?” Even is incredulous. Isak is looking more and more confused.

“I’ve been asleep for like...16 hours, yeah? Is that what you mean?”

“No, love.” Even almost doesn’t want to retell the story, even thinking about it makes his heart jump into his throat. He pushes a curl behind Isak’s ear.

“Then what?” Even sits back in his chair, taking a sip of coffee. “Just tell me.”

“What do you remember? From yesterday?” Isak furrows his brow.

“You went out to get stuff from the pharmacy. I fell asleep, I woke up just now.”

“I did go out to get stuff, yes. I said I’d be gone for 30 minutes. I got lost, it ended up being more like 45. When I got back, you weren’t here.” Isak looks even more confused. “I don’t know why - I mean, I assume you were trying to come find me, I found you walking around in the snow absolutely out of your mind. Your fever must’ve spiked after I left.” Even feels the guilt creeping into his stomach. “It took me...a while, to find you. By that point, you were burning up. I mean really burning up. I had to carry you up the stairs. And like I said you were absolutely out of your mind with the fever, just...fully gone. It was something like...almost 41, I think. It was bad. So I had to get you into a bath, and luckily that dropped it maybe a degree and a half, but even then...fuck, Isak I’ve never seen you so sick.”

His boyfriend’s expression has sobered.

“Eventually I got you into bed, you woke up a couple times with the fever spiked again, but luckily you kept down the meds, which I guess helped. And then you woke up just now. That’s it.” Even takes another sip of his coffee, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

“41? No way. You must’ve been reading it wrong, the mercury ones -”

“I bought a new one. A digital one.”

“Still...I...that sounds...that can’t be true.”

Even shrugs, letting out a sigh.

“Guess you’ll have to take my word for it.” There’s a long, long silence. He downs the rest of his coffee. He stares at his hands. “I am so sorry, Isak.”

“For what?”

“For leaving you. For letting it get that bad.” He whispers, and Isak frowns.

“Even, no one could’ve known-”

“I should’ve known, Isak. We’ve been together five years, I should’ve known.”

“Ev, there’s no way-”

“You tried to call, and I didn’t answer.”

“It’s ok -”

“It’s not!”

“It is, babe. It’s ok.” Even clenches his jaw. “There’s no way you could’ve known it was gonna spike like that. And the actions of delirious me do not reflect on you whatsoever. Bottom line is you handled it. Probably better than I would’ve, to be honest.” There’s another long pause. “It must’ve been...really scary.”

“Yeah,” he says, voice clipped.

“If it’s any consolation I feel much better,” Isak offers, and Even just nods. “If anything I have to apologize to you,” he continues. Even frowns.

“No, babe, you don’t. You absolutely don’t,” he reassures. Isak does owe him a little bit of an apology, but that’s not the right thing to say right now, so Even bites his tongue. His relief is still there but with it returns his frustration from yesterday. 

“I do! I’m...stubborn. I know that.”

“Yes. You are.” Even is holding back a wave of anger. He shouldn’t be angry at him, but he is. He really is.

“I mean, even if you weren’t here, I’m sure everything would’ve been fine. I mean, there’s no way it was 41. That’s -”

“Isak,” he says in a warning tone. 

“I mean, if I’m feeling like this now it couldn’t have been-”

Even explodes.

“It was! It was, and you scared the shit out of me! And if you’d’ve just fucking listened to me three days ago when I told you to slow down, this wouldn’t have fucking happened. You always do this, Isak, and I’m always left to pick up all the pieces. And you never fucking learn, because why would you? I’m always there to make everything ok. But it’s not, it’s not ok, and the fact you can’t see that is fucking infuriating.”

Isak looks like he’s been slapped. Even gets up, throwing on his coat.

“Where are you going?” Isak asks, and his hurt little voice almost makes him want to stay.

“Out. I just - I need to just walk this off.” He’s buzzing with anger, and he knows if he stays he’ll only make things worse. He’s already said enough, he doesn’t need to drive the wedge any deeper. He expects Isak to protest, to say something, to fight him like he always does, but he’s quiet, eyes focused on his hands. “I’ll be back...later.”

“Ok,” Isak says, and Even knows without looking that he’s about to cry. He grits his teeth and walks out the door.

\---

Six hours have passed, and Even’s mind is still torn. 

Half of him is screaming to go back. It’s part of his job to take care of Isak. He knew that. He knows that. To throw it back in his boyfriend’s face isn’t fair.

The other half is bitter. Maybe Isak just needs to learn his lesson that Even won’t always be there to clean up his mess. The fact he seemed to care so little about how terribly he scared him makes Even want to scream. Why should he even bother if Isak is just going to dismiss him? It’s petty, but part of him wants Isak to know what it would’ve been like without him. Just for a second. Then maybe, for once, he’d listen. 

\---

Isak cried when Even left. The minute the door slammed shut he broke down. When he was done, it felt like he’d been sapped of what little energy he had. He has chills again, and immediately he wants to call Even and beg him to come back. 

He knows he went too far. He knows Even is only mad because he loves him. In his insistence to not become a burden, he’d made everything drastically worse. 

In half a daze, he decides to take a shower. He feels sticky with sweat, and his muscles ache. 

He’s about halfway through when he realizes he’s made a very big mistake. While at first, the hot water felt like heaven, now he’s started to feel short of breath. He turns off the tap, resting his forehead against the cool tile wall, struggling to catch his breath. The wave of heat is so intense it almost burns, and when another rolls in, his head starts to spin. Just when he thinks he can’t stand it a second more, it’s like a switch flips, and he’s shivering. 

He tries to access the part of his brain that’s studied medicine for four years, but he can’t quite reach it. He just knows turning the shower back on will only make it worse, but at the same time, his body is screaming for any kind of warmth. He has to make it back to bed. Then he’ll feel better. Yes. This is a good plan. 

He has to struggle to make his eyes focus, and his arms and legs feel almost numb like they’re not exactly under his control. He makes it into the hallway before he needs to stop and catch his breath, leaning heavily against the wall. He just has to make it to the bed. Make it to the bed, and everything will be ok.

He does, somehow, and he lies there on top of the covers for a long time, just trying to get enough breath in and out. Eventually, it occurs to him if he wants to warm up, he’ll need to be under the comforter. 

Clumsily, he pulls Even’s hoodie over his head and wraps himself tight in the comforter, his knees to his chest. Now if he can just fall asleep, he’ll be fine. Fevers aren’t that big of a deal. It’s not a big deal. He repeats the words to himself like a mantra. He’s fine. It’s not a big deal. 

His efforts to warm up don’t seem to be paying off in any way shape or form, and his head has started pounding, but he feels sleep slowly start to drag him under. He gives in totally, hoping that when he wakes up, everything will be better.

It is not. 

He wakes up with half a scream in his throat, sure he’s woken up from a nightmare but not sure exactly what. Then, he’s hot. He’s so hot.

He struggles out of the comforter and rips off his sweatshirt. Oddly, he’s not sweaty, which stirs a vague sense of worry though he’s not sure why. 

It’s even harder to get his vision in focus now, and he’s pretty positive he wouldn’t be able to stand straight if he tried. His head is throbbing and he wishes he hadn’t woken up at all. 

Out of nowhere, he realizes three things. One, this is not good. Two, he’s completely alone. Three, he and Even are in a fight. 

“Fuck,” he breathes out, and closes his eyes, hoping the lack of light will help his head. Another thought comes to his mind, seemingly out of nowhere. He should cool down. Unfortunately, he has no clue how to even begin this task. He’s about 99% sure he can’t get up, and even if he could, there is no way he is making it anywhere useful. 

He keeps his eyes closed, repeating the words back to himself. He’s fine. This is fine. It’ll pass. He just wants to fall asleep again, but his body is not cooperating this time. So he lies there with his eyes closed, hoping somehow he’ll just shut down. And eventually, he does.

\---

By the time Even reaches the apartment building, it’s almost 8PM. Most of his anger has worn away, and he hopes Isak will be awake so they can talk when he gets upstairs. Though he doesn’t necessarily regret what he said, it clearly cut Isak very deep, and they need to address it in some way. 

When Even finally gets to the fifth floor, he takes a deep breath and opens the apartment door. He’s confused at first. All the lights are off, and Isak doesn’t seem to be anywhere. He does another scan of the room, this time landing on his boyfriend half curled up on the twin mattress.

While he knows Isak needs sleep, he’s a firm believer in the sentiment to never go to bed angry. He takes a deep breath. 

“Isak?” No response. He tries again. “Isak?” He’s still asleep. He sets his jaw, taking off his coat and boots, walking over to the edge of the bed. He feels it before he even touches his skin. The fever is back up. Way up. He steels himself, and rests his hand on Isak’s shoulder, trying to swallow down the guilt and panic he feels swirling in his stomach. He shakes his shoulder gently. 

The younger boy’s eyes open a crack and close again. 

“Is, wake up.”

He makes a small sound but doesn’t stir. 

“Wake up, Isak.” 

Finally, his eyes open, and stay open, at least long enough for him to see Even standing there. 

“Hey, babe,” he says, running his fingers through the younger boy’s hair. He opens his mouth as if to speak but just lets out a breath. Clearly, everything’s gone back to shit and Even wonders idly if he should call an ambulance. Isak doesn’t have health insurance, which, while never an issue in Norway, here could mean thousands Isak can’t afford. “You’re ok, I got you.”

He grabs the thermometer, making sure it’s set to Celcius, before guiding it into Isak’s mouth. It takes a while, almost a full minute, to beep. 41.1.

He never should’ve left. How fucking stupid was he? To leave his boyfriend, who’d only hours before been running a brain-melting fever, alone all day. Not even bothered to call. He shouldn’t be surprised things have gotten this bad. Maybe it was Isak’s stubbornness that got them here but it was Even’s bitterness that only made it worse.

He doesn’t know much about it, but he remembers reading somewhere that anything above 41 degrees could be physically dangerous. All the more reason to get the temperature down.

He scoops Isak into his arms, hating the way his skin burns against Even’s. He doesn’t bother filling the tub this time, just sits Isak down and turns on the tap, the water slowly rising. He’s tempted to skew it cold this time, but he does remember vaguely that an ice bath is just about the worst thing for a fever. In this moment, Even isn’t quite sure he believes that sentiment, but he’s not going to risk it. 

Unlike the night before, Isak doesn’t shiver. He just lies there while the water slowly rises to his collarbone. Even turns off the tap, but he’s not sure where to go from here. If this doesn’t work...Isak might, in fact, be stuck with a $3,000 bill. 

His breathing starts to calm some after a while, and his eyes open. He lets out a heavy sigh when he sees Even’s face.

“Hey,” his voice is barely a breath. “M’sorry.”

“Not now. Later,” Even says, and Isak closes his eyes again. It seems like every breath takes concentration.

“M’hard to love,” he murmurs, and Even’s heart officially breaks.

“No,” is all Even can get out around the lump in his throat.

“I hate me too,” Isak says, again, barely more than a whisper. Even runs a hand carefully through his hair. He’s started to sweat, which is a good sign. Fever’s breaking. 

“I love you. I’ve got you.”

“It’s shit work.”

“Not to me. Not if it’s you.”

\---

“We have to talk. For real,” Isak finally says. He’s been...well not exactly dreading the conversation they have to have but at least anticipating it. He knows he can be an asshole and it’s not always pleasant having to own up to that. And he hurt Even. Again. 

Isak had been “fever-free. 100%. You did it!” for a day now. The initial exhaustion had knocked him out for most of that time, so this is hour one of his (conscious) sickness-free time. He’s wrapped tightly in a blanket and holding the cup of coffee that Even had pressed into his hands as soon as he’d woken up. 

“Yeah,” Even replies, not even trying to lighten the heavy mood. 

There’s a long silence.

“I can go first?” Even offers and Isak nods gratefully. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you, I’m sorry. I only get frustrated because I care about you, you know that right?” Isak nods. “I shouldn’t have left you alone either, I was an idiot for that. Though I guess I knew if we started arguing I’d say something I didn’t mean.”

“Right,” Isak says quietly. 

“But the fault isn’t totally on me. And I think you know that,” Even says, voice serious with a hint of pity. “You’ve always been like this, and I’ve known that, and I’ve been there to catch you. But you pushed it too far. And I hope…” He takes a deep breath, looking down into his own coffee cup. “I hope you’ve learned something.” 

Another long silence. Isak breathes deeply. 

“You know I’m not a little kid. I...this isn’t...I don’t need to learn any kind of lesson.”

“That’s not what I mean. I mean you have to understand how what you do affects me. You might be fine with working yourself into the ground and pushing yourself too far but I’m not. And obviously, you can make your own choices, but I feel like my side matters too. I don’t want you to feel like shit. It’s like...if I broke my arm or something, and you were telling me we needed to go get it fixed, and I just disagreed. Or went and tried to do...monkey bars to make it worse. Sure, me having a broken arm doesn’t physically affect you, but it would, wouldn’t it?”

Isak sighs, all of his fight and annoyance leaving in one exhale. 

“Yeah.”

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m...punishing you, or something, I just don’t know if I can handle it. I see you hurting but you won’t let me help, and I can’t just keep pretending to be fine with that.”

“I...I didn’t see it like that but you’re right. I know that I’m well...stubborn might not be a strong enough descriptor really,” Isak says and Even finally cracks a ghost of a smile. “I just...ughhh,” Isak shakes his head. It’s hard enough to have serious talks when he isn’t being consumed by guilt. He knows Even is right. He knows this has been a long time coming. He can be an idiot when it comes to health (which...ironic he knows), but he really thought it would just bite him in the ass not...hurt Even. And make them fight. And–

“To be clear, I will always take care of you Isak. No matter what. This could happen again, and it probably will, all I’m asking is that you just let me help you. That’s all I want to do.”

“Did we talk about this last night?”

“Yes.”

“I said it was shit work, taking care of me.”

“I disagreed,” Even says calmly. Isak frowns. He’s still not sure about that. “It’s not to me. Not if it’s you, yeah?” Isak nods. Even rests a hand on his cheek, and Isak wishes he wasn’t such a mess. He doesn’t deserve him. Not in the slightest. He leans into the touch, trying to tune out all the guilt. “I think you should come home with me. For the break, at least. Just to get away from everything. Also, to get your lungs checked out and not owe a fortune. I’m pretty positive you’ve got pneumonia.”

“I’m the med student.”

“I’m aware.”

“And as the med student, I somewhat agree with you. But it’s still a lot of money. And time away,” Isak says, frowning.

“You’d also be able to see the Oslo gang? The squads?” Even says, trying to sweeten the deal. 

“We haven’t all hung out in so long. Everyone’s busy.”

“We could have a Christmas party.” Isak can tell Even is grasping at straws. “Or, we could just relax at the apartment and make sure you don’t die, which will be a task in itself I assume,” he teases. 

“I could do Christmas,” Isak says slowly. Even’s not going to stop and Isak really owes him. And it could be fun...if Isak lets himself have fun. He might even...want this. 

“That’s awesome,” Even says, smiling. Isak smiles back.

“Yeah. I think it will be.”

“You can speak Norwegian again, finally. And not get asked where your accent’s from all the time.”

“People usually just assume I’m pretending to be Russian but I don’t quite have the accent down yet,” Isak says laughing. The oppressive tension from earlier is easing up. Things can be normal again. Things are already normal. Things will be easy.

“Scandinavian people tend to be pretty rare around the rest of the world. Real Scandinavians, I mean. Tourist Scandinavians.”

“Like you?” Isak shoots back. Even smirks.

“Yeah, like me. Pretty soon you’ll just be another American tourist in Oslo. Speaking of, I should probably get you a ticket,” he says, and Isak laughs.

“That would be helpful.”

The next day, they’re sat in the airport, Even reading a book, while Isak tries to stifle his coughs. Being sick at an airport is a surefire way to piss people off. He sniffles. Even laughs softly.

“What?” Isak asks, and the older boy smirks.

“Don’t be so stressed, no one cares if you’re ill,” he says, tucking a curl behind Isak’s ear.

“Says the person who’s never ill.” He slumps further into his seat. He doesn’t feel like shit anymore, but if the past few days have been any indication, that could turn on a dime.

“One of these days it’s coming.”

“I doubt it.”

“I’ll have you know that my throat hurts quite a lot,” Even says, not looking up from his book.

“Shit, really? Fuck, Even I’m -”

“It’s fine, I’m sure it’ll blow over. My immune system isn’t as fragile as yours,” he teases, and Isak rolls his eyes. It’s messed up, but he’s almost hoping he’ll need to take care of Even. Then they’d be even. Somewhat even. Not really, but almost.

“Thank you. For being so good to me.” He tucks his head against Even’s shoulder.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

**Author's Note:**

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> [Priscilla’s tumblr ](http://boxesofflowers.tumblr.com)!  
> 


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